Rockhole

By Jesse Skiles

Two bloodlines, Forbidden marriages, Children's deaths. For the Conners and Clark families, it's one tragic disaster after another. Two lineages so intertwined by love and marriage...the Curse!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Authors Press
• Release date: Feb 2, 2021
• ISBN: 9781643144559

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Copyright © 2021 by Jesse Skiles

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

ISBN: 978-1-64314-454-2 (Paperback)

978-1-64314-453-5 (Hardback)

978-1-64314-455-9 (E-book)

AuthorsPress

California, USA

www.authorspress.com

Contents

Acknowledgments vii

Prologue ix

Chapter One 1

Chapter Two 17

Chapter Three 33

Chapter Four 53

Chapter Five 73

Chapter Six 91

Chapter Seven 111

Chapter Eight 129

Chapter Nine 147

Chapter Ten 165

Chapter Eleven 185

Chapter Twelve 195

Chapter Thirteen 215

Chapter Fourteen 233

Chapter Fifteen 255

Chapter Sixteen 275

Chapter Seventeen 295

Epilogue 307

Opening right in the middle of Mary J.’s frantic escape, this book starts out at full speed, providing a constant layer of tension that remains present throughout the entire book. The gradual build-up for the reader isn’t the characters approaching a climactic showdown so much as it is generations of sin being peeled back one by one, bridging the distant past with the present circumstances that drive the action of the story.

Grim descriptions and demonic presence provide jolts of horror in the reader, but the actual sense of terror rises to a boil at a constant, steady pace until the thrilling conclusion that will leave the reader gasping for air. Like any good piece of suspense or horror, there is a war of wills whether to put the book down and release the tension or press on and see what happens next.

Early revelations have the audience waiting for worse information to come out, to spoil their perceptions of well-liked characters or spell doom for someone that seems safe otherwise. Taking a measured and varied approach leads to a story with twists and turns that are hard to predict while still offering a satisfying follow-up to expected events.

Acknowledgments

Cover design by Garrick Rick Guth: For an outstanding job of depicting a place from my memory and from a short, one paragraph description of an old man’s fifty-five year old remembrance extracted from the dusty shadows of a dark recess in my mind. Excellent work Rick. To his wife Melissa Guth who, without her supreme knowledge of computer systems and her patience in teaching me how to use my new computer to my best advantage, saved me months of hard, unnecessary work.

To my mom and dad: My parents, Victor and Mary Skiles, bought me the Brother word processor which I used to write this book twenty-two years ago. At the not so gentle nudging of my wife and daughter, I recently retrieved the manuscript from an old-really old-floppy disk, cleaned it up and submitted it to Page Publishing. Again, my thanks to my parents, though posthumously, who gave me my start. I wish they could have lived long enough to see the product of that love.

To certain family members: These are the individuals who endured the agonizing and time consuming endeavor of reading this novel in its rawest form. They include my wife, Debbie, who has been my constant companion and strongest advocate for forty-three years, my daughter Tami who won my heart at the age of three months, my daughter Jessica who has been and continues to be a wonderful cheerleader for this book and my efforts in general and finally my sister-in-law Kathy who, if memory serves, was the first person to read this and offer encouragement. Kudos to each of you for helping bring this to light.

To Page Publishing: They saw the potential in my raw, unedited manuscript and was willing to publish it. Especially to Diana, who remembered me from three years earlier, when I first considered submit ting it, and was more than willing to accept it. To Andy, my coordinator, who did a marvelous job of bringing this all together and for putting up with neurotic authors like me. To all those at Page whose names I don’t know, who performed behind the scenes, editing, page design and cover design to make this book a success. Thank you all.

To my God and His Son, Jesus Christ: They gave me the knowledge, discipline and especially the courage to follow this dream. I placed all my faith in them, and it has blessed me for many years. To the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen!

Prologue

The young woman stood perched on the edge of the cliff that jutted out slightly beyond the wall of rock below. She stared into the darkness horrified, frozen by fear and unable to move. I must be dreaming she whispered. Of course! Any minute I’ll wake up and everything will be fine. It was just a nightmare.

But it wasn’t fine! She was awake. This was real?

The woman began to tremble as fear swept over her anew--her lips quivered, her hands shook. She wrapped her arms around herself and tried to calm down, but she could still feel the quaking in her body. She closed her eyes, squeezing them real tight, but she could still see the shocking image in her mind.

Her head began to spin. She felt nauseated, like she was about to throw up. She was dizzy. She was losing her balance. She teetered precariously, about to fall into the darkness below.

Panic set in and she backed slowly away from the edge. Suddenly, she spun around to run up the slope behind her, but her feet seemed glued to the rock. She lost her balance and, falling backward, clawed at the air. She just knew that at any second, she would pitch over the edge and into the madness below. At a moment that could not have been timelier, her feet loosened their grip on the rock, and she found herself lying face down on the ground. Beginning to lose her hold on reality, she inched her way up the short incline, scratching and scraping, while crawling on her stomach.

Halfway up, she jumped up to run, but a low hanging branch slapped her across the face. Stunned and reeling from the pain, she screamed. Still clutching her flashlight in her right hand, she continued to struggle up the slope. She had just about reached the top when her feet slipped on some loose gravel. Once again, she found herself lying flat on the ground. Slightly dazed, she glanced behind her, fear creeping in again and numbing the pain.

No! Noooo!!

She finally reached the top and started running along the dirt road that skirted the creek below and led to the main road.

She had to get out of there before It came after her too!

Her eyes darted from side to side, but her quick, furtive glances revealed nothing in the darkness. Doesn’t matter, she thought. You can’t see It unless It wants you to.

The young lady had been down this road a hundred times. She knew it like the back of her hand, but suddenly she felt totally lost, as though she’d never been there before. She swiped at a tangle of dirty, matted hair that hung aimlessly in front of her eyes. She tripped over something in the road and went sprawling forward, landing on her left knee first, then catching herself before doing any more damage. A sharp pain shot through her knee and up her thigh as the pointed edge of a jagged rock pierced her tender skin. Stifled only by her fear, she permitted a little scream to escape her lips before bouncing up and resuming her panicked escape.

She took a quick look around, certain the creature was right behind her, or maybe in the black, dense tree line. She was terrified that the horrible thing was close.

She felt It. Somehow, she felt It!

She couldn’t see It, but she could feel Its strong presence. It...beckoned to her. Covered by the dark of night and guarded by the density of the trees--It was almost...yes! yes!.. pleading with her to come to It.

Gripped by unfathomable fear, she ran.

She clung to the flashlight, as though it were a lifeline, swinging it as she ran, the light dancing all around her. The one thing she feared the most, being alone in the dark, was happening to her now.

The creature was near. She was certain of it.

A barbed wire fence separated the road from a field of rye to her right. If it were daylight, the girl would be able to see the waist high weeds swaying in the breeze that drifted lazily through the valley surrounded by ranges of hills on both sides. But in the darkness, the weeds were thousands of invisible fingers reaching for her. She didn’t know which was worse, the dark, dense tree line, or the open, treacherous field.

A loud screech split the night like a huge machete. It elicited another scream from the girl just as she tripped over a broken tree limb laying across the road. She staggered a few steps before falling and skinning the other knee. As before, the pain gave way to her immense fear. She looked around for a minute, before leaping up and bolting away.

When she reached the end of the dirt road, a barbed wire gate loomed ahead. Rather than take the time to climb between the rungs of wire, she scrambled over the top. The needle like barbs pierced her hands, arms and legs. The top rung grabbed her foot and she landed in a heap on the other side. The razor-sharp barbs had torn at her tender flesh until she was a bloody mess.

She lay there for a moment before sitting up and taking in her surroundings. Suddenly, she stood up and at a dead run headed for the farmhouse where lights pierced the night. It stood like a lone sentinel cutting through the blackness, just a quarter of a mile away.

She stopped.

The light--her beacon in the night--had turned red. Blood red! Everywhere she looked--there was blood. Then she remembered. The cool, dark water had turned a sickly red hue as the life-giving fluid spread out in an ever-widening circle over the surface of the water at Rockhole. And then it came back to her--Brian!

She screamed and screamed!

The earlier events had been blocked from her mind by fear and the horror of what she saw, but now she saw clearly--the horrifying images, the awful site of just moments before.

Her screams bounced off the hills and echoed through the valley.

She stiffened. Someone, or something, was coming. It has come for me. Oh God, I don’t want to die, she whispered to the night. Then she fell to her knees, drops of her blood mixing with the dirt on the road.

Crying almost silently now, she uttered one last scream--as something grabbed her arm.

Chapter One

He could feel the sharp, claw-like fingernails digging into his back. He didn’t know how long the scratches were, but they felt like they covered his entire back. At first, they felt like razor slices, like paper cuts, but as the sweat began to seep into the fresh wounds, they burned with an electrifying intensity. But the pain was partially masked by the strange goings on around him, drawing him in until he became a part of the odd happenings. It seemed unending, time was irrelevant, as though it would last forever. But surely it couldn’t. His emotions and conscience imprisoned for all eternity. His adversary danced around him, filling him with a passionate and heightened sensitivity. Thrashing wildly, as though possessed by a demon, the relentless torture probed at his spirit while pain continued to nip at his consciousness. The razor-like fingernails finally released their grip, clenching into tiny fists that pummeled his body. Subconsciously, while keeping a wary eye on his foe, he tried to remember the last time he had been so badly beaten. But his mind was unable to search his memories, choosing, instead to remain vigilant and responsive in the present. Suddenly her tongue searched out and found his mouth. It slithered in and out, probing the depths of that dark, sensual opening. The girl moaned loudly as her passion exploded and her senses came alive. As their sweat mixed, the salty brine lingered on her lips and on the tip of her tongue. Their fingers intertwined and squeezed tightly as their bodies shuddered in unison from the spasms of ecstasy. Then it was over.

Stoney Clark and Susie Connors lay side by side on the bed, breathing heavily, exhausted, but content, while still holding hands.

Susie was a spirited young lady, full of zest, not promiscuous, though her family believed she was. Maybe if her parents could see her side, they would realize that Stoney was the only man she’d ever been with and ever would. Nevertheless, she remained a disappointment to her parents. When she went to work for Brian and Stoney in their hardware store, she thought for sure they would change their opinion of her. But unfortunately, some things never change.

As far as she could remember, it started when she entered high school, the day she decided to test the waters of parental control. She had been a brunette all her life. Her mother often bragged on her pretty locks and fussed over them when she was a little girl. Susie was never fond of the color. She had wanted to be a blonde since those early days of childhood. In school, especially high school, the good-looking boys all liked blondes--and they did seem to have more fun, just her opinion--no matter what her mother said.

Sadie, Susie’s mother, was totally against the color change and, in so many words, let her youngest daughter know it. She launched into a rampage letting words like slut, wench, hussy and tramp trip off the end of her tongue. Susie had heard enough and finally moved out when her mother referred to her as a slatternly whore. That was the beginning of a strained relationship between mother and daughter that still existed. It was unfortunate, too, because everyone else liked her new hair--particularly Stoney. He once told her the blonder and the longer, the better. So, except for an occasional trim, the only other thing she did to her hair was a blond rinse. Her goal was to have it long enough that it could tickle her behind--and it was almost there.

Susie.

Shhhhhh! You’ll wake Michele.

Susie’s lover and fiancé’ was also her sister’s husband’s brother. And since her and Mary J.’s mother had married Brian and Stoney’s father, after their own father had died, it technically made them related, but the whole thing was so complicated that folks stopped trying to figure it out a long time ago. The way Stoney and Susie saw it, since there was no blood relation between them, they weren’t doing anything wrong.

Stoney had grown up in his brother’s shadow, but never resented it. To tell the truth, he admired and respected his brother and had been in many fights to prove it. Brian always said there was nothing to prove, but still the fights came. Of the two brothers, Brian was the brain and Stoney was the brawn. Stoney had defended his older brother many times when they were young. As adults, Brian had decided to return the favor by partnering with his brother in their hardware business.

Brian swung a deal with the local bank to finance their hardware store in a joint venture. Their partnership had worked well for three years now. When they added Susie to the payroll, it soon became a family business.

Mary J., on the other hand, was content to be a housewife, happy to let those three run the business while she stayed at home. Of course, stayed at home is a rather loose term. What she did most of the time was go next door and visit with Dala, her best friend, while Dala worked on her customer’s hairdos.

In sharp contrast to Susie, Stoney had no problem with his looks. His hair was dark, wavy and hung to his solid square shoulders. It never looked messy and he always kept it clean. Stoney was an even six feet tall and had the kind of lean, yet muscular build most women adored. He had sinewy, smooth skin that effectively showcased his muscular frame. Most of the family saw him as a lazy sort that would never amount to anything. Regardless of what others thought, Brian had always been exceptionally close to his brother--and always, always sided with Stoney.

Sorry, he apologized, still breathing heavily. Susie started to cover his mouth with her hand, but instead popped him in the nose. Then she covered her mouth and burst into a light giggle, as he pulled away and touched his nose gingerly.

Am I bleeding? he asked softly.

No, silly! I didn’t hit you that hard. I’m sorry. she said, reaching out to touch it.

They were in Brian and Mary J.’s bedroom, which was down the hall and around the corner from Michele’s nursery. They probably would not have wakened Brian and Mary J.’s six-month-old baby girl, anyway. But Susie wasn’t taking any chances.

Where do you think they went? he asked, still rubbing his nose. Both were relaxed now, leaning against pillows propped against the headboard.

Rockhole, she chided. Where else would they go to get away from everyone?

Maybe we should do that some night and make mad, passionate love under the stars after a refreshing swim, Stoney whispered seductively in her ear.

Susie thumped him on the arm with her fist. You are so romantic sometimes. Why haven’t you said anything before now? she asked, jumping out of bed. Without waiting for an answer, she tiptoed down the hall and stopped in front of Michele’s room. Clasping her hand tightly around the doorknob, she carefully turned it, not making a sound. Still walking on tiptoes, she crossed the room to the crib, leaned gently over the side rail until her face was close to Michele’s checking to be sure her niece was breathing.

Susie stood beside the crib and gazed at the sleeping child with a love that only an aunt could feel. Down deep she wanted kids, but just wasn’t ready for them and didn’t believe Stoney was ready for a family either. She was perfectly content with her relationship with Stoney just like it was. But there would come a day...

Her heart suddenly pounded as she briefly thought of the three children Brian and Mary J. had lost. Each death had torn a fresh wound in her own soul. Susie felt the losses of those three as much as her own sister had. So, as she looked down on her niece’s tiny face, it was with a special affection.

Michele was sleeping so peaceful, laying there in her soft, flannel sleeper that was decorated with circus animals. Mary J. wouldn’t have bought this style, so Susie had done so. Aunt Susie had convinced her sister to keep using them at least until Michele outgrew them. She reached down and brushed a stray lock of hair from the baby’s face. It was so soft, Michele’s sandy blond hair, that Susie let her fingers linger for a moment. She finally removed her hand and pulled the blanket over the child, leaving only her head exposed. Susie backed out of the room noiselessly and closed the door.

At the door of her sister’s bedroom, she broke into a run and three feet from the bed turned herself into a human torpedo. Stoney was laying on the bed with his eyes closed and was taken completely by surprise, when Susie landed on top of him. There was a loud whoosh as the air in his lungs erupted violently. She rolled off and sat next to him with her legs folded under her, shocked by his reaction. She wasn’t sure what to do. So, she did nothing, but sit and stare in disbelief. Should I call 911? she cried. He made a couple of wheezing noises as he tried to breath in some air. A minute later, he was sucking in great gulps of it as his lungs began to inflate.

Nice...shot, was all he could manage to say.

Sorry, Susie said, almost tearfully, disheartened. I didn’t think that would happen. My foot slipped just as I jumped. You okay? she asked, nervous concern evident in her tone.

Stoney laid his head in her lap and she gently stroked his hair. I’m fine, he said, breathing easier now.

She twisted around until she was reclining against the pillows, cuddling and caressing him until the incident was past. She glanced at the clock on the night stand. One a.m. Time for more fun, she thought playfully, to herself. She ran her finger down his cheek and let it wander aimlessly over his hairless chest.

Want to go again? she cooed.

Just then the phone rang.

Delmer Matthews and his wife Dora were awakened by screams that pierced the night from somewhere across the rye grass field that he planted every year . It shattered the nighttime silence, jarring them from a deep sleep.

My God! uttered the aging farmer, throwing the covers back and jumping out of bed. He raised the window shade and scanned the semi-dark field.

What is, Del? his wife asked, a scared tone in her voice. Del?

I don’t know. I can’t make out a thing in this darkness. Dora had put her robe on and joined him at the window.

Was that an animal? Dora asked.

I don’t know. It’s just too damned dark to see--No! Wait a minute. There, he said, pointing at something in the dark. Someone is on the road. As if on cue, the moon peeked from behind a cloud and illuminated the road. I think it’s a girl, he said, a bit surprised.

Well, go open the door! See what’s wrong. Hurry up, now, she may need help. I’ll put on some coffee. Should I call the sheriff? she asked quickly.

Best to wait ‘til I see what it is, might not need the sheriff. He slipped on his house shoes and robe and quickly made his way out the front door of the old farmhouse. He walked at a fast pace down the road toward the girl, mindful of the loose gravel.

She had fallen to her knees by the time he got to her. Del leaned over and laid his hand on her shoulder. Miss, are you all right? What’s wrong? She looked him straight in the eyes and screamed.

Delmer recoiled at the raucous noise and looked for signs of injury but couldn’t see much because of the darkness. Young lady, what is it? he asked, gently squeezing her shoulder, which caused her even more panic.

Suddenly she grabbed his arm and yanked his hand from her shoulder. NO! NOOO! she screamed. Del regained his hold on her, afraid she might run. It was obvious she shouldn’t be alone. He tried to make some sense of her confused babbling but couldn’t understand her. Leave me alone! Get away from me! she cried, trying to free herself. But the farmer had a steel grip and refused to let go. The girl continued yelling and screaming incoherently. NO! You won’t get me, too. Get away! Get away! She started backing away from the farmer, her eyes wild and frightened. Del finally relented, letting go of her.

Who’s after you? he asked, shouting to be heard over her screams. Miss, I just want to help you. Can you tell me your name? You may need a doctor. The more he spoke, the more she shrank away, unable to hear or understand.

Suddenly, she collapsed falling into a heap on the road. Delmer pried her hand loose from his arm and then picked her up and carried her back to the house. Dora had the door opened, waiting for him.

Del struggled up the porch steps.

Put her on the bed in the spare room, she told her husband.

Call the doctor and the sheriff, he gasped, out of breath. After he laid the poor girl down, Del went into the kitchen for some water and rags to clean the girl’s wounds. By the time he returned to the unconscious girl, his wife was off the phone.

What happened to her, she asked softly.

Don’t know, he told her. One minute she was yelling and screaming and the next she just passed out. From the looks of her, I’d say she got into that barbed wire fence, but I don’t see anything really life threatening.

Well, I called the sheriff and the doc like you said. They’re both on their way.

Good! Good, Del replied, beginning to wipe some blood from the girl’s arms and legs. How’s that coffee coming, Ma?

Should be about ready, she nodded. I’ll go check on it. He took a blanket from the closet and covered the girl up. She moaned and rolled her head, but then quickly settled into a restless sleep.

Thirty minutes passed and Del had cleaned her about as good as he could. Hello, a voice called from the front door.

Hey, doc. Come on in, Del responded cordially, opening the screen door. Right in here. She’s in the spare bedroom.

Doctor William Edwards had once had dreams of practicing medicine in a big city hospital when he was still in residency. He had always thought of starting a specialized practice, in gynecology. But for some reason, he ended up back in his home town of Crater Ridge with a general practice that didn’t pay much, had long unforgiving days, but was very much needed.

The five-foot, ten-inch, silver haired, potbellied physician walked into the bedroom and immediately began to observe the girl’s situation.

He pulled the cover down to her waist and began to examine her, poking and prodding the obvious areas affected. Finding nothing serious, he lifted the stethoscope from around his neck and listened to her chest area. Over her right lung, he detected a gurgling sound. We’d better get her to the hospital, Del. Dora, is that coffee I smell?

Certainly is, Bill. You want a cup?

If you can make it to go, he said, giving her a quick smile.

I think I’ve still got some of those paper cups left over from the fourth of July picnic, she replied. I’ll get it for you.

Daniel and Sadie Clark had an ongoing argument that started a couple of years after they were married. For nearly twenty-five years they had been having this same argument. It involved their inability to come to any decision about what they’d found. Sadie had wanted to confront the family about it, but Daniel convinced her they should remain silent. Purely by accident, they had discovered a dark family secret kept hidden for two generations.

We should tell the kids, Sadie said firmly.

No! Daniel shouted. No one is to ever know. He looked at his wife, his stare never wavering. Do I make myself clear?

Yes Daniel, of course you do, she snapped, But I still say they have a right to know. It’s our fault for letting them get married to begin with. We should have told them before we ever let it go that far.

Daniel ran his hands through his hair. He suddenly felt very old as he rubbed his burning eyes with very tired fingers. It’s not something I want out in the open, he said weakly. If we do, before you know it, the whole damned town will know. Hell, I wish I didn’t know, he admitted.

Daniel! I’ll say it again. They’re our children. They have a right to know.

He looked at Sadie, regret already building inside him. We keep our mouths shut! The subject is closed.

Sadie gave him a disapproving look. No matter how long they’d been married, she was still a Connors--first and foremost. She and Howard Connors had two daughters, Susie and Mary J., from their marriage. When Howard died, she was left with two little girls to raise--alone. So, out of desperation, she had married Daniel Clark. There wasn’t love in the beginning. For her, it was more a marriage of convenience. She just didn’t want to be alone.

What no one knew, except certain family members, most of whom were dead by now, was that she and Howard were second cousins, but far removed. Surely there wasn’t anything wrong with that, or so she had convinced herself many times. Sadie caught her breath suddenly! Did Daniel know about that? She’d never told a soul, especially not him. Maybe someone else did. She gave him a furtive glance. Nothing. He was completely stone faced. Oh, God! What a nightmare!

Daniel’s mind worked feverishly as he tried to sort through the horrible knowledge of his ancestor’s incestuous relationship. He had thought his was awful until this. But what he and Elizabeth did was nothing compared to his grandparents. Franklin and Carlotta were brother and sister. That had to be about the absolute worst he could imagine. Daniel tried to remain expressionless as he sorted through it. He finally decided it was time for him to be honest with Sadie. At least he wouldn’t have to live in fear of her finding out some other way.

There’s something I need to tell you, he blurted out. Say it before you change your mind. It won’t be easy for you to hear.

Sadie’s eyes were as large as saucers. Oh my God! He did know. Or maybe it was something else. Maybe he was having an affair, or worse. But what could be worse than that? Yes? she asked in a barely recognizable voice.

Daniel took a deep breath. Elizabeth and I were second cousins, he told her.

Sadie stared at him. Was she holding her breath?

Did you hear me? I said that Elizabeth was my second cousin. We were related before we were married.

Sadie was relieved and a little surprised. Truthfully, she had expected something much worse. She quickly shook it off but continued staring at him. My God Daniel, what have we done?

He squinted his eyes. What do you mean, we?

We were second cousins, too. She spoke quickly before he could say anything else. She needed to get it all out while she still had the courage. My father and his mother were first cousins, she admitted, her voice beginning to quiver a little. Mary J.’s poor babies never stood a chance, she cried as tears welled up in her eyes. And it’s our fault. It’s our fault they died. Oh, dear God! What have we done?

No, I don’t believe that! I can’t believe that! Daniel leaned over and held her tightly.

Oh, yes! It’s our fault our grandchildren died, she sobbed. Daniel continued to console and comfort her, but it wouldn’t be enough.

Sadie, could we just not think about that right now, huh?

She nearly lost her mind when the first baby died. Lisa Marie, their first grandchild, lived only nine months. Crib death, they called it. Purely an accident. Nothing you could have done. But Sadie knew better. That baby’s death was the direct result of their family’s dark past. And they had decided to keep it all a secret from their kids. Let them go on thinking it was just an unfortunate accident and not live with that dark cloud hanging over their heads--but now it was too late! Let them have a new start--but they would never have that, would they?

Next was Aaron Levon, who died at eighteen months. And then, Leonard Edwin, who they thought would outlive the family curse. He lived to the age of four before he died. In fact, he had just celebrated his fourth birthday. All that was left to them out of four grandchildren was little Michele LeRayne. She was six months old and everyone held their breath every day that she would make it.

Isn’t three enough? she cried out, looking toward the ceiling. Isn’t three enough? She collapsed into Daniel’s arms, a broken woman.

The sound of a ringing phone broke the ensuing silence.

Mary Jane Clark lay in the hospital bed, her blood soaked, knotted hair cleaned, her several cuts and scrapes tended to with loving care and a few stitches. None of her many abrasions were severe or life threatening, but she would need much rest, but should recover soon. the pain and horror of the night’s events, however, would linger for some time.

Susie and Stoney were the first to arrive at the hospital. They ran up to the nurse’s station out of breath and frantic. Mary J. Clark--where is she? Susie asked, excited and breathing heavily.

Are you family? the nurse asked without emotion.

Yes, I’m her sister. Where is she? How is she? Susie was angered with the nurse’s cool, detached attitude.

I’m Doctor Edwards, said an elderly man with silver hair and a mustache that matched, approaching them from behind. He wore a white doctor’s coat and his smooth, soft voice had a calming effect, appeasing Susie’s anger. He steered them to some chairs in a small waiting area.

Susie never took her eyes off the doctor, as though he might vanish if she did.

Your sister was found out on County Road 135 tonight. She was in a state of shock, panicked and scared to death. She was covered with various cuts and abrasions. She has a punctured lung. She’ll be fine, physically, with rest and care. I gave her a sedative and she’s sleeping. Doctor Edwards averted his eyes for a moment, I don’t know what happened out there, but she’s been through something traumatic. When she wakes up, she’ll be disoriented, and she may not remember what happened. On the other hand, she may recall the whole thing and her fear and panic could return. That’s about all I can tell you, he finished with his hands spread apart to indicate he had no more answers.

How did she get here, doc? Stoney asked, quizzically. Who brought her in?

Well, actually I did, he answered slowly. But I’m not the one who found her. Delmer Matthews lives out there, at that first curve, he found her and called me.

Stoney and Susie looked at each other in dismay. It was Stoney who asked first. Where’s Brian?

I’m sorry. Who is Brian? the doctor asked, confused. Stoney glanced at Susie, but she still stared at the doctor. After a few seconds she forced her eyes away. Slowly and deliberately, she focused on Stoney.

Brian is her husband, Susie informed him in a barely audible voice. They were together.

I’m sorry, Doctor Edwards said again. I don’t know. She was found alone. Neither Delmer nor Dora said anything about another person.

Paging Doctor Edwards. Doctor Edwards dial 449 please. Doctor Edwards please dial 449.

I’m sorry, he said for the third time. I have to go. Your sister is in room one twenty-two. You can go see her now. I’ll look in on her later. He smiled and walked off.

Dan Rogers had been sheriff of Miller County for twenty-two years and he still hated getting called out in the middle of the night. This call came shortly after midnight. He had been asleep for only an hour. Usually when calls like this came in, it meant trouble.

He climbed the steps to the Matthews porch and knocked vigorously on the screen door. Hello, anybody home? he called out.

Yeah, Dan. Come on in, Del shouted back from the kitchen and walked into the living room to greet the sheriff.

I was pretty sure you were, the sheriff commented. Looked like every light in the house was on. He grinned as he accepted Delmer’s extended hand and shook it with a strength that belied his small frame. Besides being short and light on his feet, Dan had jet black hair and a boyish face. Most folks agreed, he looked more like a schoolboy than the County Sheriff.

Come on in and have a cup of coffee.

I thought I smelled some of Dora’s coffee when I walked up on the porch, he smiled cordially at her. But I also thought I smelled biscuits, too.

Sheriff, you’ve got a nose like a bloodhound, she chided, giving him a hug. Set yourself down there at the table. She busied herself with pouring coffee and serving biscuits and some of her homemade jam.

"Okay, Del. Why in the hell did you call me out in